Murda Marcyville lyrics

by

Memphis Bleek


[Intro: Jay-Z]
Uh huh
(scratching) "chi chi chi chilly chill"
This gangsta gangsta uh
Uh huh
This gangsta gangsta sh*t
"chi chi chilly chill"

[Chorus: Jay-Z]
I'm from murder murder Marcyville
My n*gga you heard we clap you we certainly will
South Philly mothrf*ckers kill at will
Bet the nine milly make you n*ggas "chilly chill"
Murder murder Marcyville
My n*gga you heard we clap you we certainly will
South Philly motherf*ckers kill at will
Bet the mack milly make you n*ggas "chilly chill"

[Jay-Z]
Check the four corners of the earth I'm a man of respect
Marcy projects motherf*cker I'm demanding respect
Y'all n*ggas don' f*cked up, y'all called in the cleaners
Jayo you're not a felon you're a misdemeanor
Don't let the Nina hit you and split your bean up
f*ck them punks with you, we hit your team up (buck buck)
Y'all n*ggas hurtin', that publicity stunt is not workin'
Ya made a bad situation worsen
Y'all wanna see me out this game like Rider
You f*ckers better stop that [?] my game wider
How the f*ck you gon' try us?
You can't deny us of a dollar it's the Roc b*tch, holla
Beef ain't nuttin' to a boss, n*gga
You cross the line, the orders go out, we kick in your doors
Wavin' the 4-4's
All I heard was "Jigga I don't want it no more"
[Chorus]

[Memphis Bleek]
Yo you heard a n*gga fronted on Bleek word?
n*gga, never fronted on Bleek word
If it's written I wrote it
You spit it I spoke it
So...Never forget Bleek totin'
I'm from murder murder Marcyville
If y'all look in the mirror do y'all see real?
We see through your facade
Y'all soft like Q-tip cotton
Y'all dudes ain't hardly real
The boss spit off impulse certainly will
If I smack this kid you'll probably squeal
So open the hydro we firing steel
We clear out the building like a fire drill and
Money too long for y'all to fold
You know to catch a case to me is like a common cold, so
Get your guns, you ain't ready for war
You know the R-O-C too strong for y'all, motherf*cker

[Chorus]

[Geda K]
Yo, I'm in a zone
You n*ggas done disturbed the peace
I try to relax
Still got word off the street
Hear you frail bast*rds tryin' to get your name back
You ain't achieve sh*t since you got your name in rap
We can't be misjudged you hear the flows and the lyrics and
The fifth slugs'll tear holes in your spirit and
It's like rap turned y'all to kill and hustle
Knowin' y'all gone snitch if I hop one touch you
Talk that gangsta slang be a gangsta slain
These N-Y-M-P gangstas bang
How you talk real but need your click to live?
All I need is the fifth and two clips to give
Geda keep the unsane ratchet
For y'all who swear y'all can dodge the rain put on your rain jackets
It's the game y'all ain't fit for drams with us
And we pop the big guns that tear through armored trucks
[Chorus]
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